Lori froze. Maritza turned to look at her with perfectly made-up eyes. Her hair was fluffed high on top and cascaded down into long soft curls, as though a professional stylist had just put a finishing touch on it before pushing her on stage. Her vivid aqua blouse was neatly tucked into a pair of slim black jeans. Black boots completed the ensemble as neat as a pin. She must have grown six inches-tall and willowy. What had Amy said? A knockout?...